


Perception

by dearjoanwallace



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:06:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10764867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dearjoanwallace/pseuds/dearjoanwallace
Summary: Leonardo feels Donatello’s pain, in more ways than one (a sequel to “Geeky Wimp Of A Brother”)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 4/29/17 note: "Geeky Wimp Of A Brother" is probably my most popular fic. I wrote it back in 2008, and since that time, people have asked for a sequel. I wrote one just days after the first one. After a couple beta readers read it, and one really didn't like it, I never published the story. I'm posting this nine-year-old story for the first time today.
> 
>  
> 
> **Perception**  
>  By Kellyanne Lynch  
> 24 May 2008
> 
> Beta-Readers: Quoth The Raven, Alyssa Barnes, Heather King
> 
> Disclaimer: I have borrowed the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles from Mirage Studios and from Eastman and Laird. I hope they don’t press charges. This story is for entertainment purposes and for my own enlightenment only. I am not making any money off of it. Actually, Raph now owes me thirty bucks. 
> 
> Summary: Leonardo feels Donatello’s pain, in more ways than one (a sequel to “Geeky Wimp Of A Brother”)
> 
> Rating: PG-13
> 
> Author’s Note: This story takes place a day after the first one. Also, this fic is truly multiverse. While I draw upon the comics, the 1987 and 2003 TV series, and the movies for inspiration in all my fics, this one is going to specifically reference an event from the original comics. Your enjoyment of the fic, however, should not hinge on whether or not you have read that issue. 
> 
> Dedication: This fanfic is for Jen (Quoth The Raven) and for everyone else who inspired me to write a companion fic. She is also responsible for the reshaping of the end of chapter one. Thanks! 
> 
> Glossary: 
> 
> Chudan no kamae – middle level posture (a kendo stance where the hilt of the katana is set just below the waist with the tip of the sword pointing to the opponent’s throat)
> 
> Cosmic mudra – a hand position in meditation where the hands form an oval at ones midsection
> 
> Tsuka – the hilt of the katana
> 
> Seiza – sitting on the back of ones legs, a traditional Japanese posture

_Perceive that which cannot be seen with the eye_  
\- Miyamoto Musashi

 

**Chapter One**

I stand in the center of the dojo, amidst my three brothers. Katanas deflect sais, nunchaku, and bo. I defend myself yet make no advances. I can’t. I am unable to focus.

I lunge into the air, duck into a ball, and land behind Mikey. As the three turn, I take several paces back. I sheathe a katana and, with my free hand, pull the tails of my mask so the holes no longer line up with my eyes.

“Show off!” I hear Raph mutter.

Raph, you give me too much credit. If only you knew how wrong you are! If only you could see my sixth sense for the crutch that it is. If only you realized how desperately I clutch it to escape the pain I see in Donatello’s eyes. But you just keep thinking I’m a show off, little brother. 

Both hands grip one katana at _chudan no kamae_. Loosening my grip, I place my hands in cosmic mudra. The katana nearly drops, but the tsuka catches on my thumb. I turn my _ki_ – my life energy – to my chakras. Striking before they are in tune with one another is of no avail. I have to clear my mind.

A warrior must be an open vessel. He must empty himself of the cares of the material world to concentrate on the battle at hand. The mind, as an empty vessel, invites knowledge, allowing for the lesson the moment teaches. _Ki_ can then flow through the warrior. When I live in the moment, I strike with perfection. 

In this moment, I feel pain. It is not my pain, as it did not originate within me, and yet, it is my pain. It is within my brother, and therefore, it is within me. 

He pretends that he is well; however, I saw him fall. I heard that bone crunching thud that makes me cringe, even now, as I remember his twisted form at the bottom of the stairs just a few days ago. I can feel the pain in his neck as my own. I can feel heat swelling through my own shoulder, stabbing from my brain through my entire left side. But that is nothing compared to the heartache…

White hot pain slashes through my bicep. I barely manage to block out one brother’s anguish and to deflect another’s swing. I raise my katana, which vibrates and clangs with the unmistakable cadence of katana against sai. Now I can feel flaming amber ki radiating against my left side. That energy shifts, as do I, and my katana clashes with the second sai. I extend my leg, and the bottom of my foot slaps a plastron. 

“Ungh!” I hear Raph’s grunt, followed by a thunk.

I feel movement behind me. I jump, and air whistles beneath my feet. I land and jump again, but not before wood strikes my left ankle. I had put that sprain out of my mind when we first started sparring. Don’s bo brings it back to remembrance in spades. I stagger back a few paces, holding my breath.

“Nice one, Donnie!” I compliment him. 

Anger erupts from the place where I sense my peace-loving brother standing. Even as I block Mikey’s next advance, I feel Don fuming. I catch his bo with my katana. I feel it pulled away and strike with greater force. When it detracts, I shove my katana back into nothing. Mikey must have moved. I raise my katana, and the tip narrowly catches the oncoming bo. Don’s rage envelopes my spirit. 

With the first katana barely holding off Don, I reach for the second. Wood cracks at my wrist, and I recoil. I hadn’t felt it coming, not in the least. I catch the nunchucku’s second strike with my katana. The third bites my jaw. I try to focus on Mikey… but I can’t. Don’s aura consumes me, glowing muddied red as Carolina dirt over my soul, pelting me with insecurity and anger.

The bo slams harder and harder. Crossing my katanas, I block the onslaught with my blades at an X. His pain cripples my third eye; I am blind.

I throw myself into another backward somersault in the air, away from Don. Breaths come hard. “Okay,” I pant. “That will… do it for now.”

As I reach for my mask, a guttural growl rips through the dojo. Before I get over the surprise to even begin to place it, I am flat on my back and gasping for air. Katanas clatter to the floor. 

“Don!” I hear Raph exclaim.

Mikey cries out, “Leo!”

Pain sinks its teeth into my soul, well before the pressure against my throat devours my breath. I thrust my hands against the bo on either side of my neck. My world is blurring fast, and my shoving quickly fades to batting. I can no longer hear the desperate cries of my brothers.

My mind scrambles to make my peace. As a bushido warrior, I need to accept death, but at the hands of my brother? No! Don is going to hate himself for this when he realizes what he has done. He is going to hate himself forever. I need to stop him!

But I can’t… I can’t push him off me. I can’t even breathe! Squeezing my eyes shut, I push back tears. He’s still on top of me, still pushing me – so, so angry. 

_I have failed you, Don_ , my soul cries. Consciousness slips from my body, and I tumble into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Air rushes my lungs. It catches on a knot of pain in my throat, and I’m choking on my own breath. I throw my head back, frantically gulping air and coughing. I kick out my legs, my foot finally slapping the floor and rolling me onto my right side. With my head against the floor, I’m gasping.

A hand caresses my shoulder. I open my eyes and focus on Mikey, who is kneeling beside me. I take comfort in my baby brother’s deep blue eyes and in his touch. My breathing eases back to normal, although I continue to fight that lump in my throat.

“Leo! You’re okay!” he exclaims. He slings an arm onto my shell.

“Yo, shell for brains, give him room!” I hear Raph.

Mikey pulls away, and he and Raph help me into a seated position. My legs shake before resting on the floor of the dojo. Raph hands me a glass of water. I don’t even realize I’m trembling until I accept that glass and dribble water down my plastron. Mikey wraps a hand over mine and guides the cup to my mouth.

“Mike, I mean it! Give him space!” Raph demands. “Fearless can hold a damn cup.”

Mikey’s hand slips off mine, and he and Raph sit beside me. I tip my head back as far as possible, which doesn’t really help me the water pass any easier. That knot in my throat cuts like a knife with every swallow. I force myself to drink.

Between searing gulps, I glance around the dojo. Raph is sitting beside me, staring at the floor. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him look that intense without punching someone or running off. I’d give him a hug if the moment weren’t awkward as it is… okay, maybe not, but I want to.

I see that same urge to give out hugs in Mikey’s eyes. I bet he would if Raph hadn’t just snapped at him. Instead, he’s taken to hugging his knees; he holds them tight to his plastron, to the point that his knuckles are pale. I’ll give him a hug later, but first…

I finish my water and look to Don as I set the glass on the floor. He is across the dojo in seiza, his head in his hands. I can see his shoulders shuddering.

“Can I have a minute with Donnie?” I ask.

Raph is all too quick to jump to his feet and to fly out of the dojo.

Mikey slowly nods. He gets to his feet and heads for the door. He then turns back, rushes to my side, and throws his arms around me. He holds on tight for several seconds before rising. He almost knocks over Donnie when he flings himself into his next embrace.

Mikey’s departure quiets the dojo; his bright ki no longer warms the room. Donnie must feel its absence as intensely as I do, as we both shiver. His sniffling breaks the silence.

I get to my feet. “Your spirit is troubled, Don,” I say. I swallow hard, raking pain through my throat like a razor blade.

“I’m sorry, Leo!” his hands muffle his response. 

My heart stings. I shake my head as I approach him. “No, Don. I’m sorry. I have failed you.”

He raises his head from his tear soaked hands, wide red eyes staring. “No, Leo! I was the one…”

“Don…”

Those pained and stained eyes narrow into a glare. “Would you stop placating me for once? Why do you always think everything is your fault when nothing ever is?” Fresh tears brim in his eyes, and he wags his head. “I mean, you saved my life…” Eyes widening, he stabs a trembling finger in the direction of his abandoned bo. “And I thank you by choking you. Who the shell are you trying to kid, taking the blame for that?”

“Don, please tell me,” I plead with my brother. “What did I do to hurt you?”

Donnie wags his head. “Nothing,” he whispers, and he looks to the floor.

Furrowing my eye ridge, I cross my arms over my plastron. But… but it has to be my fault! I had to have hurt him deeply for him to attack me. He has never lashed out at any of us in anger. My kind, longsuffering brother doesn’t even raise his voice when I drop my shell cell for the three billionth time or when Raph totals the shell cycle minutes after Don’s made a major upgrade or when Mikey’s cat Klunk bats his latest invention around the lair. 

Don is the epitome of patience, and he certainly doesn’t resort to primitive tactics to communicate like the rest of us. He makes objectivity in the face of stress look so easy. He can sit down with any one of us and can reason calmly, commanding an enviable vocabulary from that incredible mind of his.

And yet, in this moment, we observe silence.

I had to have cut him deeply to have severed his supermutant bond to rationality. I must have wronged him horribly if he cannot even tell me what I did, if he can’t even look at me.

At long last, Don mumbles through his hands. “For once, it’s a good thing I’m weak. Otherwise, Raph wouldn’t have been able to push me off you so quickly, and you’d be dead.”

_Weak_?! I rub my bruised and throbbing neck. “My throat begs to differ with that slight against your strength.”

Don looks up and blinks hard. “You were blindfolded, three against one. I fell to one measly foot soldier.”

A deep breath hitches in my throat. Is that what this is all about? “That was no measly foot soldier! Besides, you fought off several first. We all fall, Donnie…”

“But it’s not just that!” He slaps his palm into the floor. Pain swims in the tears in his eyes. “I just… I hate lying! And that’s what I’m doing whenever I allow myself to be identified as a ninja when I am just not good enough!”

My breath catches sharply in my throat again. That’s nothing, compared to the throbbing in the pit of my stomach. “Not good enough? Donnie, you’re a genius…”

“Yes, I’m smart enough to know my place is in the lab and not in the dojo – and certainly not in combat. How long can we afford to pretend I belong out there?” He balls up his fists. “Leo, I can’t deal with this anymore. I can’t deal with always having to be saved.”

He looks to me, the desperation in his eyes cutting to my soul. “Leo, you just have recognized long before the others that I’m a liability. Why didn’t you tell me to stay behind and help from the computer?”

“Because your place is with your brothers, Don! We need you too badly to leave you at home!” My voice is harsher than I’d intended. Toning it down, I continue. “Donnie, why do you choose to remember only the times when you have needed help? None of us are above needing to be rescued. 

“And what about all the times you’ve saved our shells? Like the first time we faced The Shredder, and he tried to kill us all with that thermite grenade? We would have all been dead, if you hadn’t been so quick to think to lodge your bo at his face and knock him off the roof. From your gadgets to figuring out our enemies weaknesses on the spot, you have saved the day with your intelligence alone more times than I can even begin to count. Not to mention all the times Raph and I would have probably killed each other before a battle even started, and you managed to mediate and to keep us focused. Don, we need you!”

Don’s features soften. “But that still doesn’t negate the fact that I am physically weak,” he says with a grimace. 

I wag my head. “Don, you’re selling yourself short. What about the other day? You were by far the worst injured of the four of us, and yet after we all took a few days off from practice, you came back like _kishi rika_.* I could feel your pain, Donnie.” I step closer to him. “I can feel it still. When my brothers hurt, I hurt, and rarely have I hurt so badly as when I saw you in a heap at the bottom of those stairs.” 

Tears rush to my eyes, and I don’t fight them. I have nothing to hide from my brother.

“But when you fell and got back up during practice the other day, I have never felt so proud in all my life. _Keizoku wa chikara nari_.** It’s times like then that you give me strength, and you strengthen me quite a bit.”

I fall to my knees and clutch my brother to my plastron. He returns the embrace. As we hold one another, I feel his pain – our pain – subside. I smile and hold my brother even tighter.

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * _Kishi rika_ – “wake from the dead and return to life”
> 
> ** _Keizoku wa chikara nari_ – “continuance is power / strength”


End file.
